Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, or any of its characters, but Christmas is only a few days away, so you never know. What's that you say, Santa dosen't have that much power? Well maybe so, but the story and everyone else is mine. So there!

A/n: This story has turned out to be a little more Warrickcentric than I had planned, but you have to follow the story, even if you're the one writing it. So I hope all you Warrick fans are enjoying it. Also, I know this chapter is kind of short, but I'm working on a Christmas fic, and didn't have time to write more on this one. Please read and let me know what you think so far. And thanks to Odeepblue and everyone else who has reviewed. Your reviews make my day.


Chapter 9

Warrick arrived at the interrogation room with five minutes to spare. Not sure if Brass was in there yet, he decided to look through the glass in the viewing room. After ascertaining that Brass hadn't yet arrived, he made himself comfortable on a bench outside the room. He could no longer put off the inevitable. He took out his phone and called Tina. He didn't really want to have to listen to her harping, but it would be worse if he didn't call and tell her that he wouldn't be able to meet her this morning. At least this way, she couldn't say that he didn't warn her. On the fourth ring she picked up. "Hey babe, I'm sorry but I'm not going to be able to meet you for breakfast. Now before you say any…."

"It's okay." She cut him off sounding breathless. "Something umm… came up, and I wasn't going to be able to meet you anyway. I'll catch up with you tonight." There was some mumbling in the back ground. He could tell that she was muffling the phone. Finally she came back on. "Honey I have to go. I'll call you later." Than she was gone. He sat there looking at the phone. Was she alone, or was someone with her? Since when did she not mind when he wasn't able to meet her when they planned? Usually she would have kept him on the phone for an hour, bringing up all the times he'd had to cancel. Asking why she'd never met his co-workers. Before he could ponder this more seriously, Brass walked up.

"You ready?" Brass asked, putting his hand on the door handle. Warrick nodded and followed Brass through the door.


"Ms. Temple if you're ready to talk to us, this is your chance." Brass said as he seated himself across from her. "We'll start with an easy question. Why did you run?"

Sandy sat with her hands clasped together in her lap. Her eyes were locked on her hands, watching her red painted thumb nails circle each other. Finally she looked up and sighed. "I lied before. I recognized the first man that talked to Mr. Johnson. He comes in on a pretty regular basis. He's bad news. I didn't want to be the one to tell you guys who he was. You gotta believe that I feared for my life."

"I take it that you're now ready to tell us a name, or did you just call us down here for the fun of it?" Brass did not sound sympathetic.

"I was hoping I'd get some kind of guarantee that, you know, I'd be protected. If I give you a name, it's as good as signing my death warrant." She leaned her elbows on the table, and stared at them.

"What if I could make it so you didn't actually have to give us the name?" Brass offered. "All you would have to do is nod, or not, depending on the name."

She considered this. Shaking her head she asked. "And if the name you give isn't the person I'm talking about? You'll still expect me to give you a name.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. So, if you're ready?" Nodding his head, he indicated that she should ready herself. "Is the name of the man you saw with B.J. Johnson on Tuesday night, at Club Chanteuse, James Nelson?" At this her eyes widened and she stared at Brass for a few moments. Finally she nodded. "Now, that wasn't so tough was it? Now you can honestly say that you didn't give up his name. There's just one more thing that we need to know. Did you lie about anything else? Like for instance, what the two of them talked about."

"I swear I didn't overhear much. Just something about Mr. Johnson owing him some money. I didn't lie. I didn't want to know too much about their conversation." She twisted in her chair, looking from Brass to Warrick. "I don't know anything else. I promise. Can I go home now?

Brass looked towards Warrick, the look on his face incredulous. Warrick turned to Mr. Temple and cleared his throat. "Ma'am, you're still under arrest for obstruction. You put the tax payers to a lot of expense to find you. You'll need to be held accountable for that. For now, we have what we need." Warrick nodded to the uniform to escort her back to her cell.

"Don't worry; if we have anymore questions, we know where to find you." Brass cracked as she was led out.

Shaking his head, Warrick grinned. "How did you know who the guy was?"

Brass grinned. "An educated guess. When Ms. Freely said that Johnson owed someone money I knew we were probably looking for a loan shark. Put together with the earlier description of the man that met with Johnson... well it jogged my memory. Nelson works that part of town, and he's bad news. If Johnson got involved with him, he was in a shit load of trouble."

Warrick shook his head. "Well it was a guess that panned out. Good thing Grissom wasn't here. You know how he feels about guessing."

"If he had been here, I would have made up a better excuse for how I came up with the name." Brass opened the door and they walked out.

Sighing Warrick said, "Good idea. Well if you don't mind, I think I'll head on home. This day has been a long one."

"You go on. I'm going to put out the order to bring Nelson in for questioning. Than I'm going to go home myself. Maybe by the time I get in tonight, I'll have a loan shark to tangle with." The two men parted in the hall. Visions of a few hours of sleep dancing in their heads.


Sara lay with her head resting on Grissom's chest, and her leg nestled between his. She was twirling her fingers through his chest hair. He was stroking her hair with one hand, and had the other under his head lying on the pillow. He seemed to be a million miles away. She was worried. It seemed that something was bothering him lately, and he wasn't sharing it with her. She didn't want to push, all she could do was be there for him when he needed her, and give him his space when he needed that. Wanting to take his mind off of what she thought might be bothering him at the moment; she kissed him on the chin, and rubbed her foot up and down his hairy leg. She loved lying cuddled next to his big, warm body, loved how he made her feel so delicate, which wasn't easy for someone her height. He looked down at her, and smiled.

"Ms. Sidle, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to cripple me. I'm an old man, by body isn't used to all this activity. You know the elderly need their sleep." He smiled as he looked down at her.

She stretched her arm across him, and tucked it under him, hugging him tightly. "Old shmold! Baby, there are only two things that matter. That you make me deliriously happy…" She trailed her fingers up his chest and finished up with them resting on his face. She traced her fingers lightly over his face, starting with running her forefinger over his brow, and her thumb down his nose, ending with her fingers tracing his lips. "And that you are happy. Not just with our life together, but with all aspects of your life, and I want you to know that I'll be there for you, no matter what decisions you make.

He was silent for a long moment, just looking at her, running his fingers through her hair. Finally he moved, pulling her over on top of him. "Well what do you know; sleep suddenly doesn't seem so important." Smiling he flipped over so he was on top. "Ahh, and it's seems like I'm up for a little activity after all." For the time being, he was free of worries.

TBC…